9/5/2022. . . . . . . . . . .
Barakah
Spring was setting shore with its plethora of bursting colors and pollen rode the warm breeze that kissed warmth into the skins of those who still reminisced the bitterness of winter. The season was green, it was bountiful and it smelt divine in the gardens of gardeners.
Barakah heeded from the open window of the car, the hymn of birds transcending her mind back to the period of spring from last year with Kulthum. The laughter in her mind from all their exploits echoed distantly, howbeit it carried the vibrancy and weight of delight life had offered her just a year ago. And with it, nativity she thought she no longer possessed.
The price of life, to live, to remain living, required the striping of innocence till the time of death. It would never cease. The longer she lived, the more she adjusted to the terms of life.
Today, the weather of air grew thicker and thicker with a coldness as the time passed and Barakah made a mental note looking at the kid that was at the other end of the car door, his face to the window, gawking at the streets they passed from outside. That they'd have to stop by some mall before going home to buy him some thicker pajamas for the colder spring nights. The weather might not have possessed the same winter chills from some previous months ago but spring was a weary time with its irregular patterns.
One moment hot, another warm and another cold.
She wasn't going to buy him more winter clothes but clothes that would fit the moderate cold of the night.
By the time they had made it to their destination, the sun was high in the horizon and bright. She let the kid run ahead of her because he knew his way. They went there for lunch every Friday and Monday of the week for a good month now.
"Good afternoon Mrs Jali," The redheaded freckled secretary beamed bright at her, "Mr Jali's currently still in a meeting at the moment. Some inconvenience had occurred. He was meant to be out an hour ago but everything else is set to perfection as usual."
Barakah swiftly beamed back at her, telling her it was not a problem while rushing to catch up to Farouk for the lift. The boy held a mischief in his eyes every time they were in front of it.
Over there, she caught him chatting an older woman's ears off. Barakah stepped in front of him and shared a few words with the woman. Everyone knew who they were because of the frequency of their visits. Getting to the highest floor on the building and inside Jalal's empty office. She took a seat at the table with Farouk and they both delved into fresh Asian seafood.
The first time they'd ever come by, it was incidental. It was unplanned, it was all her Farouk and it was on the first warm day of spring. Since the day she spoke with Yayha, he'd come by every Monday and Friday without failure. He'd demand to see her and she'd reject him. The first week, he was compliant to leave as soon as she told him she didn't want to see him. The more weeks that followed, he became more aggressive. He'd step into the manor, he'd seat for hours and he'd even tried to crossover the first fleet of stairs desperate to look for her. Mahmud stepped in that day but Mahmud was now gone. He had work and his work was between Nigeria and New York.
Barakah couldn't persistently send him away. He was still her older brother. He would always have a place in her life. It was just, his seat on her table was now down the row of chairs. She liked to believe she would eventually forgive him at her own time, not as his. But she would never see him the same again and to some extent, a part of her would always despise him.
YOU ARE READING
Barakah
SpiritualBarakah Amal had escaped Nigeria shortly after the misfortune of encountering Jalal Jali as a teenager. Years since past and unbeknownst to her, she's reluctantly summoned back to wed the man who had ruined her life to protect her family. ...